


Post Traumatic Doomstar Disorder

by ApocalypticNuisance



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Doomstar Requiem, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Vomiting, super gross but he’ll be ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-12-26 23:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18292637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypticNuisance/pseuds/ApocalypticNuisance
Summary: AU where Murderface was kidnapped instead of Toki and had to be rescued in The Doomstar RequimIn the aftermath of his kidnapping, Murderface finds it hard to believe the band actually cares about him and even harder to get any normal sleep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Doomstar always gets to me, and i’ve read so many sad Murderface fics that I Want to remedy that by making something sweet and giving the guy some love.

“Hey?”

The voice startled him awake, Murderface’s eyes shot open and he jolted back in his chair, almost falling over. 

“D-Don’t TOUCH M- Oh. Pickles.”

“Shit, dood, i’m sahrry! I fergot yer still on edge. I just....wanted to see if yew were doin’ ahlright...”

Pickles gentle tone was nothing new, but the way he spoke to William, as if he was a fragile little baby, was definitely new. 

It had only been two weeks since he had been rescued, but Murderface still couldn’t get any sense of peace. Before he was kidnapped, the band would always pick on him, consider him the weakest link, and now.....they were all so nice. They were careful with him, like he would break. Before, if any of the band tried to be kind to him, he’d consider it some sort of joke and go off, spitting insults in whatever direction they were in. But....this was a new William. A William who was trying to understand that his bandmates DID care about him. He was their brother. They LOVED him.

“Ugh, that’sch scho gay.....” he mumbles to himself.

“Huh?”

“N-Nothing. I’m, uh, I’m fine, Picklesch. Now quit hovering, you’re like a....a-“

“Heliskopters moms,” Skwisgaar chimes in, a smirk on his face.

He had paused the gentle guitar music to speak up, and the silence was deafening to Murderface. His ears had started ringing almost immediately and he hated it. Hated how it reminded him of the silent, filthy room he had been locked in for months with only the sound of Abigail’s gentle voice and the squeaking of rats.

“Hey, hey, woah, Murderface?? Yer shakin’ dood, what’s goin’ ahn??”

“I’m fine. I-I schaid I wasch fine s-scho I’m fine-“ but he wasn’t. He was so, so scared that this was all a dream and the family he had come to love over the years was just a hallucination. He was terrified that when he opened his eyes next, Magnus would be there grabbing at his hair and throwing him into a wall.

The boys watched as poor Murderface’s face turned green. 

“Quick Nat’n! Grab a bucket and, uh, some blankets!”

The lead singer didn’t waste any time, grabbing what they needed and quickly handing their bassist the bucket before he puked everywhere. Unfortunately, he kinda missed and got sick mostly on the hard-to-clean floors and Nathan’s pants and boots.

“I’m schorry. Oh god, don’t kill me, i’m schorry I-“

“Murderface? Hey?? Relax, we, uh, we won’t kill you....” Nathan attempts to comfort his friend although he was the least experienced with emotions compared to the rest of the band.

“Dood yew suck at this,”

“Shut up, i’m trying! It’s, um, hard to deal with such brutal emotions!”

“Guys, now ams not the times! He ams scareds,” Toki butts in, moving to sit next to Murderface and rub his back so he would calm down.

“Let me’s handles dis,” 

The blonde goes back to plucking his guitar strings, playing a soothing melody. Sure enough, it had started to work and Murderface was brought back to reality. The hazy look in his eyes faded as he blinked, looking around.

“What....?”

“Shhh’s.” Skwisgaar hissed through his teeth, but as gentle as he could. 

He paused his playing, reaching over to grab at Murderface’s wrist and pull him back over to rest his head in the guitarists lap. Toki smiled at the cute display of affection and put the blanket over the bassist so he’d be nice and warm.

“How ams thats?”

“Uh....it....it’sch better. Th-Thanksch.”

“Don’t mentions it! It aments not’ings!”

With Murderface successfully tucked in, Skwisgaar continues his playing, the rest of the band getting comfy on the couch as well and keeping an eye on their rescued friend. Slowly, the music took over the worry in Murderface’s mind, and he ended up drifting to sleep. A comfortable, dream-filled sleep this time, instead of horrible nightmares that ate at the back of his mind.

The music slowed, but Skwisgaar kept playing until he was absolutely sure that his friend was in a deep sleep and wouldn’t wake up for awhile.

“Woah dood, where’d ya learn ta do that?”

“Willys comes to my rooms sometimes. I plays to helps him sleep.” Skwisgaar admits, a light pink tint on his cheeks.

Luckily no one was paying enough attention to notice.

“That ams so sweets, Skwisgaar,”

“Yous would do the sames.....”

“Well, uh, I doubt my singing could, uh, put him to sleep....”

“I don’t think yew NEED ta sing ta geht him ta sleep, Nate. I think he just needs sahm comfort.”

Nathan tilts his head, “Oh. Well then I can do that.”

“Yous ams having big arms, Nathans!” Toki giggles to himself before reaching over to lift one of Nathan’s arms up so he’s flexing. “Good for cuddlings!”

“Brutal. I, uh, I think.”

“We ahll have ta be there fer him. He needs us now. We’re fahmily. It’ll take some time fer Will to be okay again....”

“But we ams here for hims....” Skwisgaar mumbles, now gently running his fingers through William’s matted hair. His gaze shifts down to the sleeping man in his lap and he can’t help but smile. While the others are occupied, he leans down to press a reassuring kiss to his forehead. 

“We ams here....for YOUS.” 

The reassuring words may have fallen on deaf ears, but William shifted in his sleep to nuzzle closer to the blonde, so maybe he had heard them after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murderface catches a cold and can't handle being all alone, so Skwisgaar volunteers to keep him company.

Sleeping alone was something that William would never be used to again. After being kidnapped, especially by a masked man who had all the intention on killing him whenever he wanted, it was difficult to keep his eyes closed for longer than a few seconds. The images that flashed behind his eyes when they were closed were horrifying. Everything that happened to him, to Abigail as well, would never leave him alone.

That's why he decided not to sleep in his room. 

He had started rotating between sleeping on the couch with the tv on so he could pretend someone was there with him, or curling up next to one of his friends who had passed out from getting too drunk. Sometimes, Toki would offer to let him sleep in his room. He'd call it a sleepover and it would occupy Murderface's mind enough that he would definitely fall asleep without any problems. But he was too nervous to ask the other if he could continue sleeping over until he felt better, so he'd just sit anxiously as the hours ticked by and hoped Toki would suggest another sleepover.

Unfortunately, it was a scarce occurrence.

After awhile, he tried to focus more on staying awake all night, but he was too tired to stay awake and eventually starting passing out in random places.

Like right now.

In the recording booth.

While everyone was watching him.

He had barely gotten through the first line of music when his vision blurred and his hands couldn't keep up with what he was reading, so he ended up dropping right in the middle of the booth. Luckily, the others had grabbed him and taken him out of there, setting him on the couch with an ice pack to the head, watching until he opened his eyes.

"What....the fuck?"

"Dood, are you okay? You fuckin' conked out in the middle of recording!"

The bassist is quiet, staring straight ahead. He realized that he was laying down and was staring up at the ceiling. "Uuuhh, y-yeah I'm fine."

That was a complete lie.

"You're still a shitty liar." Nathan grunts from the other side of the room where he had gone to rest William's bass against the wall. 

"What? Am not!"

"You don'ts have to lies to us, Moidaface." 

"I-"

He opened his mouth to respond, instead getting a mouthful of blond hair. Squinting, he focuses his vision and realizes that Skwisgaar is leaning over him, staring down with a surprising amount of concern in his eyes. William spits out the hair and looks away. He can't make eye contact with anyone, he just feels guilty for lying to his friends. He had only recently realized how much they cared about him. Driving them away by closing himself off was not an option.

"I juscht.....haven't been schleeping well I guessch,"

"Oh. Well you ams alloweds to sleeps in any of our beds if you needs to,"

"I know....but Toki'sch the only one who hasch ever offered..."

Pickles gave an understanding smile, "Yew don't think we can't tell that yer havin' trouble gettin' ta sleep? Yew ain't very discreet, we catch ya dozin' off every day. 'specially when I wake up and yer layin' on me and snorin' like a rock."

"S-Schorry."

"Nah, don't apologize. It's no problem, doesn't bother me."

"Are you schure? Becausche I don't want to make you guysch mad-"

"Mads? What would we be mads abouts?"

William shifts, trying to curl in on himself so he could hide. He just wanted to become a little ball and hide away somewhere where they would never find him. Maybe then he wouldn't be getting this constant feeling of his stomach doing flips. 

".....I don't know. You all usched to act like you hated me. You made it schound like I wasch the worscht and I juscht didn't want to live up to what you thought of me. I, uh, I'm schorry."

"Moidaface, we cares about yous. We wants you to tells us if you ams feelinks okays. Espekskally's after what happends. We ams glad to have yous back."

"Yeah, dood! If yew need anythin', yew know yew can talk to us,"

"Oh. Well, in that casche....I think I need a real nap,"

The rest of the band talk among themselves quietly, trying to decide who's room Murderface should rest in. It doesn't take long before they decide, as Skwisgaar had surprisingly volunteered himself for the job of 'William Watch'. Skwisgaar takes an arm around Murderface's shoulders, leading him back to his own bedroom. The others are left in the recording room to finish their music.

Skwisgaar's room wasn't exactly fit for comfort. The fur blanket was more or less just for show, something he thought would put his groupies 'in the mood' when they were lined up around the corner for some fun. His bed was right in the middle of the room whereas his other bandmates had their beds pressed up against the wall. People who weren't used to sleeping like that might roll over and fall onto the floor. The thought of inconvenience or discomfort wasn't going to stop him from making sure his friend was alright. As they reached his room, he noticed that the bassist was slightly pale.

"Ams you alrights?"

"I-I think scho. My head hurtsch and....I think my schtomach doesch too."

"Is it a colds??? Ams you colds?"

It had been a long time since anyone showed any worry over him. The last time he had a simple cold, the only one who noticed or cared was a nameless Klokateer who was ordered by Charles to actually make sure he didn't die from his plugged up nose or his watery eyes. 

It's almost as if the world wants him to be closer to Skwisgaar, because suddenly William has started to shiver. Just the mention of having a cold is getting to him. A self fulfilling prophecy. He's quiet, but nods, intrigued by the lead guitarist's sudden panic as he tries to find something to warm him up with. Luckily, Skwisgaar actually had extra blankets in his closet and dug a few out, draping them over his friend.

"Betters?"

"Yeah, actually. Thanksch."

Despite feeling cold, Murderface was also starting to sweat. He was now certain that staying up for the past several weeks without any real sleep was taking a toll on his body. Whenever he got sick, he always felt like shit, but all those other times was when he was alone. Now, he was going to spend his sick days here in Skwisgaar's bed. Somehow, the thought of being here and spending quality time with the other man was making his heart race, his stomach tied in tighter knots than it was already. 

"I ams going to make sures you ams going to get betters, then. Nathan would kills me if I didn'ts." The blonde man shrugged, sitting next to him on the bed. "Do you need anythinks?"

"Uh, well I guessch I could usche schomething to eat."

"You haven't eatens yet??"

"Well, no, not in a couple hoursch..."

"Moidaface! No wonders you ams sicks!"

His tone was harsh, but Murderface couldn't help but feel his chest tighten and his mouth go dry at Skwisgaar's sudden worry. This was....really nice. Maybe the other really did like him. He had been debating on how to feel about Skwisgaar since he came back, and if the other man is willing to take care of him and worry about his health then there was no question that he should be more honest with himself as well. William had changed since he came back, more accepting of how he really felt about himself and about Skwisgaar. He's always had a crush on him, but now maybe it's time to do something about it.....

"-daface? Moidaface?"

"Huh?"

"Ams you okays? Ams you overheateds or somethinks?"

"Oh, uh, no. I-I'm fine." He forces a smile, trying to reassure his bandmate despite his mind racing a mile a minute.

"Oh. Well I was askinks if you wants chicken noodles soups? That ams warm and I tink it ams good for yous when you ams sick."

The bassist smiles, settling down under the blankets. "I haven't had chicken noodle schoup in a really long time. Schoundsch good."

Skwisgaar smiles, nodding and leaving the room.

The silence isn't as deafening as it used to be, because he knows Skwisgaar wont be gone for long. Slowly, he lets his eyes slip shut, pulling the blankets tighter around himself and drifting off into a nightmare-less sleep for the first time in awhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was no plot to this, I just wanted to write cute developing Skwisface. Again, Murderface really needs some happy fics :)


End file.
